


The Twelve Steps (are for alcoholism, not dating)

by cthchewy



Series: Keyhole 'verse [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Scheming, Urban Fantasy, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthchewy/pseuds/cthchewy
Summary: Claude wants to date Dimitri.  Dimitri wants to date Claude.  The only thing standing in their way is themselves.  And maybe the ancient evils that lie in the tunnels under GMU and Shambhala Tech.  Maybe that too.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Keyhole 'verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645483
Comments: 52
Kudos: 104





	1. Honesty

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prequel/sequel to the “Claude and Dimitri are Big Dumb” plot thread that runs throughout “You’re the Key to My Cichol”. I would recommend reading that first for context, especially chapters 6-9, 14, 16, and 22.

They say college is a fresh start. For people who’ve grown up around the same classmates in the same small towns for their entire lives, moving to a new city can be freeing. Reputations don’t follow, whether good or bad. It’s a chance to reinvent yourself.

Claude von Riegan, on the first day of freshman year, steps onto the campus of Garreg Mach University with just that intention. Like many students, he moved far away from his childhood home. Unlike most others, going halfway across the country or all the way across the country wasn’t enough. He ran across the border. The social outcast Claude who got bullied as a kid is gone. Now there is only this Hot New Claude, his true self finally allowed to bloom without being surrounded by people who remember his awkward years.

Hot New Claude has never worn braces. His voice has never cracked. No one sees him study, but he gets straight As. Bullies have definitely never stolen his secret diary and read all his angsty pre-teen poetry in front of the whole cafeteria. He’s so mysterious! So charismatic! His skin is perfect, how does he do that?! Acne has never touched the face of Hot New Claude; depression has never crossed his mind. Beautiful ladies swoon when he smiles at them. Handsome men blush when he throws them a wink.

This plan ~~is perfect~~

~~is terrible~~

actually works?

Everything works according to plan… externally. Internally, Claude freaks out the first time a drunk girl plasters herself onto him and drags him into her room.

Her boobs fall out of her skimpy top. He puts them back in and sees her safely tucked into bed – on her side so she won’t choke if she needs to vomit!, heels off, glass of water on the desk. Locks her door and slides the key back under it and everything. The voice of his very scary mother that hisses in the back of his mind and says she’ll flay him alive if he doesn’t drink his daily dose of Respect Women Juice demands nothing less.

And still, the next morning, rumors begin to spread about how much of a “player” he is. A player and a gentleman both, apparently.

Which is fine, totally fine! He can work with this. He can _weaponize_ this, strategically spread so many of these rumors that no one knows what’s true anymore. So that’s what he does, and lo and behold, he rises to the top of the social pecking order first in the Golden Deer dorm, and then across the entire school, until his name is spoken in the same breath as this year’s new School Royalty, which, in an institution as ancient and elite as GMU, means people who are descended from Actual Royalty.

(Claude, also, is descended from Actual Royalty on his father’s side, but in Almyra that doesn’t mean anything since, traditionally, Almyra has elected its kings based on who can punch the hardest. Also, starting a few centuries ago the kings there decided to stick their dicks in everyone and then marry everyone they stuck their dicks in, creating massive polygamous group marriages resulting in entire generations of half-siblings among the nobility, so pretty much the whole population of Almyra came to be related to Actual Royalty, which in the last years of the monarchy meant no one was _especially_ royal anymore unless they wanted to get into incest, which they didn’t, and so the whole system collapsed. It’s okay, they have a constitution now. Punching hard is just a bonus and no longer a requirement for government jobs.)

Anyway, on behalf of the misfits and commoners and brown people, Claude is going to take them down. And make friends with them. Seriously, what’s the point in attending this expensive-ass school if not to schmooze with the upper crust and gain blackmail material on some future world leaders that you would _never_ use on them because you’re _friends, right?_ _What’s a little favor between friends?_

He didn’t expect to step into a sibling-rivalry-turned-war, but that’s fine, totally fine! Claude has this under control. He’ll scheme his way even deeper into the conflict, play both sides, and come out the winner! Maybe his plan relies too heavily on tactics learned from dubious Almyran historical dramas about those generations of half-siblings assassinating each other for the crown, but hey. Those things actually happened. They’re legit strategies.

Edelgard von Hresvelg, the princess of the school, turns out to be super intense and near unapproachable. Part of this is due to her icy demeanor, but most of it is her weird vampire bodyguard shadow dude, Hubert, who won’t let anyone get near her unless he approves of them first. And he doesn’t approve of anyone unless he can creep on them in their living quarters, so anyone from outside their dorm is a no go. This is the same Hubert-who-is-Claude’s-lab-partner-in-chem.

How did things end up this way? Well, Hubert’s first lab partner paid his second lab partner ten bucks to switch. His second lab partner paid the third guy twenty and a froyo gift card, and his third paid Claude _fifty_ (no froyo though). This happens within the first month of the class.

Claude gets fifty bucks, a competent lab partner, and a huge boost to his reputation upon entering the ranks of the 1% who are not afraid of Hubert. Win-win-win. He uses the money to buy friendship and undying loyalty from the Golden Deer in the form of froyo. Claude for Golden Deer RA, everyone! He’s not afraid of Hubert and he buys you froyo! It’s never too early to start a campaign even if he won’t be eligible for another year and it’s not even an elected position.

Oh, and through Hubert he gets a direct line to Edelgard. Even if Hubert is generally unsociable and knows as much about deadly chemicals as Claude, it at least gives him an excuse to hang around the Black Eagles dorm and overhear many an interesting conversation. Wins all around.

The other side of this family conflict is the step-brother, one Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, blond-haired blue-eyed prince. It’s absolutely disgusting how perfect he looks, like he hits every bullet point in what’s considered attractive for a man in Fodlan, and he doesn’t even try. Claude’s first impression of him is “dumb jock prom king, peaked in high school”. Then he notices the hint of darkness that Dimitri tries to hide, but which shows in his eyes when he hasn’t slept well. His revised second impression is “trust fund baby with a freezer full of corpses”.

He starts watching Dimitri more closely because he wants to know if he needs to search for the corpses. They have a literature class together, one of those liberal arts requirements, and Claude takes to sitting behind Dimitri in the lecture hall while they listen to Professor Alois ramble on about chivalric sagas. When the professor makes a terrible dad joke, everyone groans, but Dimitri _laughs_. The worse a joke is, the more he laughs. That’s definitely evil, right?

As the semester wears on, Dimitri’s condition deteriorates. He starts coming to class with bags under his eyes. Then he starts zoning out. Then he starts falling asleep and drooling into his notebook.

Honestly, it humanizes him a lot. But then again, it could just be that he’s tiring himself out after long, murder-filled nights.

Then he stumbles in late one day, like seriously late. Ten minutes until class ends sort of late. There are sticks and leaves in his hair, dirt smudges everywhere else, and he smells like an entire forest. It’s… it’s _something_ watching a guy that big hunch in on himself and shamefully trudge all the way to the back of the room.

His friend Felix, Lord of the Resting Bitch Face, who always sits next to him, just gives him this ‘I’m so tired of your bullshit’ look and asks, “Where the hell did you wake up this time?”

Dimitri grumbles into his bag, which he clutches so tightly the straps start to tear.

Felix clicks his tongue. “Speak up, you dumb brute.”

“…rolled down the mountain.”

Claude knows, from weeks of observation, that this is just how Felix and Dimitri work. Despite the seemingly hostile behavior, Felix will gather missed notes for Dimitri and shove sandwiches in his face. It’s not the ideal healthy relationship dynamic, but also not something that needs to be fixed by an outsider. The twinges of sympathy he feels for Dimitri when he’s being berated are lingering symptoms of Unhot Past Claude, who is hypersensitive to any hint of bullying. Hot New Claude is too suave for that.

He still slips Dimitri a can of coffee when Felix isn’t looking. Seriously, the guy rolled down a mountain, he deserves to get _something_ out of it, even if it’s just a shitty drink from one of the campus convenience stores. Although… is it irresponsible to give caffeine to a guy with some sort of terrible sleep disorder?

Dimitri’s eyes widen when he sees the offering. He stares at it in wonder, shakily lifts his hand to cradle the shitty coffee, and then turns that same gaze to Claude. He looks like an abused puppy receiving affection for the first time in his life. “Thank you,” he mouths silently, and it’s the purest, most earnest thanks Claude has ever received.

Oh no, he’s cute.

Okay, so revised third impression: Dimitri does not have a freezer full of corpses. He’s genuinely a nice guy ~~with a really nice smile he should smile more~~.

Winter arrives, and that’s when GMU gets introduced to The Yeti.

It starts, as the rumors say, with Dimitri setting up a meeting with his sister to try to get her to come home with him over winter break. Hubert tags along, which pisses off Dimitri. He complains, insisting on privacy, which pisses off Edelgard. _She_ complains that Dimitri’s friends are all hiding right around the corner of the building, so he’s got no leg to stand on. Said friends reveal themselves, to Dimitri’s shock, and say that, well, Edelgard’s other friends also secretly followed her and are hiding behind the building on the other side of the courtyard, _so there_.

The two impromptu armies face off, both clearly defensive of their respective friend groups. Negotiations break down into shouting, and then before anyone knows it, Caspar and Felix have lunged at each other and are grappling in the snow. That’s how the first snowball fight begins.

Claude hears about all this after the fact, and he feels it isn’t fair. He’s being left out of the fun! No one invites him to the snow war, so he invites himself.

While Claude was building his power base from the ground up, Edelgard and Dimitri were consolidating theirs. He knows he’s leading the least powerful faction, a third party entering an existing conflict, so he starts with troll tactics. Hit and runs, taunts, baiting people into traps and then using them as hostages to draw out the rest of the army… the usual.

Throughout all of this, Dimitri’s mental state continues to deteriorate as finals loom ever closer. Yeti Dimitri first appears in a one-man charge against the Black Eagles that Claude unfortunately was not there to witness. (But he does get a nice look at the eyepatch the next day.)

The Eagles are out of the fight – they’ve quit, traumatized by Dimitri’s suicide charge. Dimitri’s out due to injury. The Deer are going to _eat_ the remaining Lions, Claude thinks.

Hilda easily captures Sylvain with the power of boobies. They hogtie him and send a message to Ingrid along with a picture of proof – Sylvain looking very conflicted as he’s being stepped on by three beautiful women. Marianne stands to the side very gingerly holding a riding crop.

_Meet us on the hill at sunset if you want to save him._

Ingrid’s reply: _lol no_

Okay, so the rumors about Sylvain and Ingrid being a couple were dead wrong. Plan B. They send another message to _Felix_ along with a different picture of proof – Sylvain looking even more conflicted as he’s being stepped on by Claude and Lorenz with their shirts off, Raphael shirtless-flexing in the back. Ignatz holds the riding crop, looking like he wants to cry.

This works.

It works too well.

The battle is going fine, both sides seem to be having fun. But then Dimitri wakes up from whatever ditch he’d been sleeping in and rushes over screaming about how these “craven cowards” were “trying to destroy a beautiful relationship”. He’d just checked his phone and came to a much too serious conclusion.

Felix and Sylvain both protest that there’s nothing romantic going on between the two of them, but Dimitri won’t listen. It’d be cute how he ships his friends, but at the moment it’s scary because the yETI IS CHARGING HIM, FUCK.

“Oof!”

Dimitri tackles Claude to the snowy ground and keeps him pressed down with his substantial weight. All Claude can see is that feral one-eyed glare. All he can hear is his own blood rushing in his ears, and then Dimitri’s growling. He can feel that growl, too, rumbling up from the chest pressed to his own.

“Sylvain is recovering,” he says low enough that only Claude can hear. “ _Don’t_ ruin this for them.”

Oh no, he’s hot.

Claude would be lying if he said he didn’t inherit some of that Almyran love for guys who can punch really hard. Guys who can snap him like a twig are just _hnnng_. Dimitri hadn’t seemed like the type until now, and it’s making Claude feel some type of way. It takes him a couple of dry swallows before he can regain his bearings and bring out the cheeky smile again.

“No more hostages, gotcha.”

Dimitri lets him up and they end the final battle of the semester on a friendly note.

But still. _Hnnng_. Cannot… unsee… sexy beastman…

The attraction doesn’t go away after the break, even though Claude tries his best to ignore it. It doesn’t fade after the summer. He ignores it even harder, aannnnd still nope. It keeps growing the year after.

They say admitting you have a problem is always the first step to fixing it. In his third year of university, he finally comes to terms with the fact that his stupid crush on Dimitri isn’t going to go away by itself.

The only solution is to scheme his way into Dimitri’s pants.


	2. Faith

The Holy Mausoleum is reopening soon after years of supposed reconstruction work. The site was once popular among researchers and devout believers of the Seiros faith, and is actually one of the main selling points of the university when it comes to recruiting students interested in history and religion. Unfortunately, it closed shortly before most of the current students were accepted.

The university’s board of directors are pushing for at least the public museum portion of it to be reopened by the start of the next school year, which gives the hastily put together Holy Mausoleum Safety Committee, headed by Professor Byleth, less than a semester to pull it all together. The rest of the committee consists of Professor Hanneman, who is to be their emergency contact for ancient mummy curses, and whatever hapless students the two professors can rope in.

During ~~recruitment~~

~~tea time~~

recruitment disguised as tea time, Claude learns that the “reconstruction” is actually mostly patching up the hole Professor Byleth made with a pickax so that she could reach the sealed lower chamber where their current dragon dean had been sleeping. They would have sealed it up again sooner, but Seteth thought it would be best to let things… air out. Just in case of zombies. And now, in light of the blood magic pond monster fiasco uncovered over winter break, they’re considering if maybe it wouldn’t be better to keep it open for research purposes if deemed safe enough.

With much of the knowledge of the practical aspects of dark magic lost from the public after the bans, ways of countering such spells were lost, too. Perhaps some could be recovered by studying the holy artifacts of priests from a bygone era.

“Is that really a thing?” Claude asks. “Zombies?” He also wonders why they don’t just bring in, like, experts in hazmat suits if there’s really the possibility of something sinister down there, but GMU has always been very protective of its history, and also undergrads are expendable.

Professor Byleth is silent for a disturbingly long while. Instead of answering, she pours him and Linhardt more tea.

Linhardt… Linhardt _volunteered_ for this. He’s in one of his moods where he can’t sleep because he’s so hyped up on research. In fact, Claude doesn’t think he’s blinked at all in the past half hour they’ve been here. His eyes are dry and bloodshot and so very, very open as he alternates between furiously scribbling notes and staring at Professor Byleth as she recounts her journey into the underworld to retrieve Saint Cichol.

“Well, this has been great, but I don’t think spelunking is my thing.” As soon as Claude makes to get up, two sets of hands shoot out to push him back down into the seat.

Teach gives him her best emotionless stare and says, “You should reconsider.”

“I’m not sure I’d be any help though. Shouldn’t you assemble a team of, I dunno, historians and anthropologists? Archeologists?”

Linhardt, biological-anthropologist-in-training, turns his equally intense and emotionless staring to Claude as well. “We need a chemist on the team to test for poisons. Many of the tombs are booby trapped. And no, it can’t be Hubert. We’re trying to _prevent_ the spread of dark magic.”

Okay, that is simultaneously super cool and utterly terrifying.

“You could use this research to write the theses for both your majors,” Byleth adds to sweeten the deal. “There are artifacts down there from outside of Fodlan, and plenty of tombs inscribed with non-Fodlish names.”

“I’m supposed to combine my studies into, what, an analysis of the chemical makeup of the poison booby traps laid by dead foreign priests versus dead native priests? You know the whole point of me choosing these majors was so that they _would_ _n’t_ come together organically, right? Keeps people guessing.”

Byleth shrugs. “Also, I don’t want you sneaking down there by yourself.”

“Ah. You caught me.”

So there’s no escaping. Claude’s officially the second member of this crew of expendable undergrads now. Still, no offense to Teach’s fighting prowess or anything, but he doesn’t feel particularly safe with the team as it is. Where’s the muscle? This feeling grows even stronger when Linhardt mentions that, according to his research with Professor Hanneman, there will be ‘faith-based obstacles’ deeper in. As in, possibly requiring a pure soul with actual belief in the Goddess, somehow. Whatever any of that means.

“Could you get past that?” Claude asks Linhardt.

“Heavens no. I’m a man of science.”

“...But aren’t you an ordained minister? I thought I heard that somewhere.”

“Oh yes, I did that online in about five minutes. I’m now legally allowed to perform wedding ceremonies. I married Caspar to his training regimen.”

“So we’re doomed then, unless we find someone ‘pure’ in this day and age. What does that even mean?”

“I think they have to be chaste virgins. It sounded vaguely sacrificial… But only in a symbolic sense!” He mumbles into his tea, “I wouldn’t _really_ sacrifice anyone…”

Byleth is no help. There’s a hint of petulance in her voice as she says, “I’m not bringing more students on a field trip than I have in an average class.” This means absolutely less than ten and maybe even as low as five, because theoretical math. And then the all-important question is posed. “Well, if you could each only choose two people to go spelunking with you into a faith-based death dungeon, who would you choose?”

And here’s the thing: Claude is the embodiment of distrust.

He doesn’t _do_ faith, in anyone or anything. The only things he believes in are the scientific method (the very antithesis of faith), the infinite stupidity of humanity (himself included, it’s obviously how he got involved in this mess), and the healing power of a big ol’… barbecue. Or potluck, he’s not picky. As long as there’s food and entertainment, people will gather around, have a good time, and eventually set aside their differences, even if it’s just for an hour or so.

“A hungry man is an angry man,” said his seventh grade geography teacher. That was the guy from Albinea who grew up in Sreng during the famine. How he eventually ended up teaching public school in Almyra is a mystery possibly involving copious amounts of recreational substances. But anyway, he was convinced that every successful rebellion in the history of civilization could be traced back to peasants going hungry and saying “fuck that shit” to the authorities. And, for the most part, he was right.

What Claude’s teacher didn’t say, probably because he was in charge of seventh graders, is that a thirsty man is a desperate man.

Thirst and desperation are what gave Claude the courage and temporary insanity necessary to approach Dimitri for his number (finally) after years of staring after his very nice ass. It’s what lead him to accept Dimitri’s invitation to go reindeer herding in Duscur last winter vacation. It’s what is now skewing his answer in this very important life or death question.

Claude _could_ overthink this and fight back his thirst with cool logic, but where’s the fun in that? If he dies, maybe he’ll at least be able to go out while swooning into some nice muscular arms. It’s a death dungeon. He’s gotta go with his gut instinct, with the two people on campus he trusts enough to _maybe_ call it having faith in them. He's gotta obey the thirst.

“Hilda and Dimitri. I need the emotional support, and if I get hurt they’re both capable of carrying me like a sack of potatoes.”

It’s settled. Claude will be bringing the muscle, which admittedly isn’t such a difficult thing to find on campus. Linhardt is left with the more difficult task of nominating candidates with sufficient faith and purity. (It’s more tactically sound this way, Claude thinks, because if Linhardt were nominating the muscle, they’d have to descend into the catacombs with _Caspar_ , a dude who got married to his training regimen by an ordained minister. Caspar would definitely lick something really bad and possibly made of human remains.)

“Hmm…” Linhardt thinks on his choices for a good while. “I suppose Ashe would fit the definition of pure and faithful.”

Claude nods. True, true enough. If that’s what Linhardt is going for, his next nominee will probably be either Marianne if he thinks he can convince her to come without it coming across as bullying, or Ignatz, who does seem pretty devout even if his angel paintings are sometimes a little too sexy.

“And Edelgard!”

“WHAT.”

“Maybe her militant disbelief will make the traps explode.” Linhardt shrugs. Byleth shrugs.

Claude's the only sane person in this room. Or is he? Dimitri chose freezing in the tundra for his almost-date. Claude is choosing dungeon diving for his turn. That's not a very sane way to woo a man… Well, either way, his belief in the infinite stupidity of humanity is reaffirmed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got stuck for a while trying to make this “good” and “romantic”. Then I remembered that this series is all about straddling that line of “is it shitposting?” I shouldn't be thinking at all when I write this, haha… Just let the shit spew… Yeah, we’re Indiana Jones-ing into the Abyss.


	3. Surrender

Dimitri often wishes he could be normal. That’s his prevailing thought as he enters university. He wishes puberty didn’t unlock a genetic predisposition for sleep disorders, and he wishes that he didn’t pretty much start going insane from that at the tender age of thirteen.

That was also the first year he was allowed to accompany his father deep into Duscur’s wilderness. Meeting Dedue was cool. Sleepfighting a bear was not, even if that’s how he met Dedue. Part of him wants to think he could have taken that bear while awake too, but he knows his regular self is too inhibited to really let go on a living creature at full strength.

Oh yeah, he discovered he’d inherited his family’s legendary super-strength, too. That was a fun few weeks of breaking everything he touched… And combined with the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad sleepwalking, it turned him into a mindless destroyer of cabin doors. Not ideal when camping in the winter.

Dimitri steps onto campus feeling this way, being very aware of how privileged his life has been, born into money and a loving family, and never having experienced prejudice for things like his race or social status. He might not have made it so far without such a robust support network; he’s not so conceited as to think he would have had the willpower to claw his way into such a prestigious school on his own. He owes a lot to everyone around him for putting up with his problems. All he can do is try his best to repay them.

Felix deserves all the good things in the world, and Sylvain and Ingrid and Dedue, too. Dimitri feels very protective of the old friends who continue to stand by him, and that’s why he’s so happy when Ingrid and Glenn get together. It’s why he gets second-hand giddiness when Dedue first sees GMU’s greenhouse in person. And it’s also why he roots for Felix and Sylvain to find happiness with each other. He’s very invested in his friends’ happily ever afters. (He has a less optimistic view of his own, because really, who would want to tie themselves romantically to the mindless destroyer of cabin doors?)

New friends join too, and Dimitri’s social circle expands. Everyone in the Blue Lions dorm is so welcoming! Dimitri will _protect them with his life._

Late into the first semester, in the middle of Dimitri’s first on-campus breakdown, Claude von Riegan enters the scene with a can of coffee and a kind smile. That’s not to say he hadn’t been in Dimitri’s peripheral vision for quite some time, because it’s hard to miss a guy like Claude. Everybody knows him; he’s everybody’s friend. But to be on the receiving end of that kindness and charm is somewhat of a revelation. Claude is an angel…

Then Claude kidnaps Sylvain and, and… _flirts_ with him. And gets all the Golden Deer to flirt with him! And then they take _lewd photos!_ Dimitri in a controlled state would express mild disapproval. Dimitri, mind mashed into a pulp after pulling an all-nighter and then passing out midday and waking up in the snow being mourned by cats and surrounded by snow angels he didn’t make, pounces without thinking.

In the aftermath, after the battle high wears off, he crawls back to his room and broods like an edgelord. He skipped that phase in high school and is now making up for it. He had really started to like Claude, and when his senses return and he realizes how badly he over-reacted, he finds that he still really likes Claude, but everything will be awkward now. _How_ could he pin and grind on a guy while growling in his face?! Claude must think he’s an unhinged pervert. Their budding friendship will never recover. Dimitri vows to be perfectly polite and distant with him from now until forever.

The plan isn’t 100% successful because their friend groups start to overlap too much. Following the… _incident_ , Sylvain and Claude begin flirting egregiously with each other and with Hilda, and then they form some “super secret club” that involves inviting more girls to hang out in the Golden Deer basement every other week or so. Dimitri isn’t one to put much stock in rumors, but the rumors say that they’re having… relations. All of them, at once. As in… an orgy.

This continues into their second year.

Sylvain insists nothing untoward is happening when Ingrid confronts him on it, but he won’t provide any details either. He says, with a wink, “I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

Upon hearing that, Felix’s face screws up like he simultaneously bit into a lemon and the Fraldarius regional specialty of lye fish, which actually happened once on a dare. (Lye fish is exactly as appetizing as it sounds – fish preserved in caustic lye until it becomes gelatinous and loses its flavor but retains all the scent of an entire rotting harbor, eaten pretty much only by descendents of the Fraldarius family on Saint Cichol’s Day to remind them of the hardships of past winters. And because the historical Fraldarius version of chivalry borders on extreme masochism.) This is his face when gearing up for a fight. While he doesn’t throw any punches, he stops talking to Sylvain for weeks. Then he goes to investigate.

He kicks the door in on the next super secret club meeting, discovers The Truth, and when he comes back less than half an hour later, the shadows under his eyes are darker. He must have seen horrors beyond comprehension.

“So they _were_ doing, uh, _it?_ ” Dimitri asks. “If they were, I’ll talk to Sylvain. I’ll--”

“No. There was nothing sexual but they were-- huurgh--” Felix almost pukes in his mouth. “Romcoms,” Felix gasps out. “Manscaping! Claude is the devil!” Then he retreats to his room and goes silent.

Dimitri is very confused about all of this. Sylvain comes back a while later, obviously having been given a “makeover” by Hilda. The skirt he’s wearing… might actually be Hilda’s, and his exposed legs are completely hairless.

“Like what you see?” Sylvain asks, blowing an exaggerated kiss.

Dimitri glances around to make sure they’re alone in the lobby. He puts a hand on Sylvain’s shoulder. “Are you in trouble? Do they have blackmail on you?”

Sylvain slumps. “N-never mind, man. You, ah…” He sighs and reaches up to ruffle Dimitri’s hair. “You stay pure, all right?”

Dimitri stares balefully back. He takes nothing away from all this except that Felix thinks Claude is the devil and Sylvain still thinks he’s everyone’s big brother just because he’s slightly older than the rest of their friend group. This is why his courtship of Felix is failing. Felix is not into incest. Dimitri says as much, though in more subtle terms.

“Are you still doing this to Felix? He thinks you see him like Glenn does.”

Sylvain freezes. A flicker of some true emotion crosses his face for a brief second. Then he drops his face into his palms and wails. “My baby boy! How you’ve grown!” Peeking through the gaps of his fingers, voice still muffled, he says, “But seriously, I’ve got big bro rights until you gain some practical experience. Borrowing bodice rippers from Ashe doesn’t count.”

Heat rises up into Dimitri’s face even though there is nothing to be ashamed of. Chivalric romances are _quality literature_. Even the bodice-ripping modern takes have themes of justice, honor, and duty. While largely unrealistic, they are nevertheless far better in their idealism, in Dimitri’s opinion, than those genres of literature that focus on killing and despair.

“I’ll thank you not to impugn the good name of our book club.”

They drop the topic, both topics, and things carry on as usual after that. Felix and Sylvain return to their awkward dance. Dimitri returns to trying not to break things.

He doesn’t entirely succeed. Out of cursed curiosity, he looks up “manscaping” and is then plagued by thoughts of the partial beard that Claude has started growing, and how very neatly trimmed it is, and ~~how very neatly trimmed other parts of~~

he snaps a few pens.

This continues into their third year, when everything changes because Claude asks for his number.

Dimitri has exchanged numbers with a lot of people over the years, yet somehow it feels significant when he starts texting Claude. At first they discuss battle plans, mostly. But even after the three-year saga of the snow war comes to an end, they don’t stop.

They’re genuinely _friends_ now. They… they _hang out_. Regularly. By _choice_.

After spending all winter break together, they establish a new routine. It doesn’t feel right to go more than a day without getting a text or a greeting as they pass each other by. It’s rare to go more than a couple days without meeting up, whether it’s to study, to grab a quick bite to eat, or just to chill out on a couch somewhere.

Dimitri thinks nothing of it when Claude grabs his arm as he exits the lecture hall of his last class of the day. He lets himself be dragged to the patch of wildflowers behind the greenhouse where Claude’s favorite cats like to frequent. It’s still a couple hours until sunset. They lay on the grass, cloud gazing as cats mew and curl up around them.

“Hey, Dimitri?”

“Hmm?” The breeze is cool and the grass is soft beneath his palms. Dimitri’s eyelides begin to drift closed.

“There’s this event that I’m, well… I was wondering if you would go with me?”

“Sure,” he says. _Anything_ , his stupid lovestruck mind adds.

Claude takes in a deep breath like he’s steeling himself to announce something terrible. And he does. “We’re gonna raid the creepy catacombs under the Holy Mausoleum. I’ve been told to expect booby traps, poisons, and possibly zombies. I’d feel a lot safer with you along, but in the interest of full disclosure, you should also know that your sister is coming too, and she thinks she can find something down there that will destroy the church. You’ll probably have to fight her to stop her from doing inappropriate things to relics.”

Dimitri’s eyes snap back open at the word ‘catacomb’. His hands clench around a handful of grasses and flowers. By the time Claude finishes his initial pitch, if those words can be called such, Dimitri has lifted up two entire dirt clods each the size of basketballs.

“Ah,” he says, looking at the dirtballs. He awkwardly plops them back into the ground as a myriad of cats judge him. His strength is a problem that will never go away, and perhaps his tender feelings for Claude are like that too. They make him stupid. Stupider. And still he gives in.

He sighs, tries to wipe the grass stains off his hands, and then brings up a smile for Claude. “Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to help.”


End file.
